


Dungeons and Dungeons

by Haywire



Category: Archer (Cartoon)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Gen, Swearing, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 20:31:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5469941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haywire/pseuds/Haywire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gang begrudgingly obliges Cyril's wish for gaming on his birthday, which in turn leads them into a real life-or-death situation when Cyril messes things up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dungeons and Dungeons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yhlee (etothey)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/etothey/gifts).



> For yhlee for Yuletide 2015, I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Thanks to mjules for the beta as well!

Cyril sighed and shook his head. “Alright, roll a D20 to see if you succeed or not.”

“Is…” Archer frowned and looked at all the dice laying on the table. “I, uh. I don’t see a ‘D’ on any of these.”

“Here, you can use mine,” Krieger offered, handing over a die to Archer.

“Thanks, I - wait,” he said, rolling it in his palm. “Ew, why is this so sticky? No, hold on, I don’t want to know.” Archer rolled it out of his hand before anyone could answer the question. “I got… a seven.”

“Ok, add that to your ability score, put it against his defence…” Cyril muttered, rolling some dice behind his game master’s screen. “And… I’m sorry, Archer, you fail to punch the bartender in the dick.”

“What?! But he’s a bartender with like no armor, and I’m a warrior-”

“A level one warrior,” interjected Cyril.

“But still! Come on!” Archer cursed and flipped his hands in the air in frustration. “This sucks. Why are we even playing this goddamn game again anyway?”

“Because it’s Cyril’s birthday and we promised him last year that we’d actually do something with him,” Lana said, arms folded. “Even though I didn’t think it’d come to this.”

“Come on, this can be fun, guys,” Pam replied, pausing to finish chugging her beer. “I mean, once we get into some actual fighting and shit. I can’t believe we still haven’t left the starting tavern yet.” She burped loudly and cracked open another beer.

“I still don’t know when the roleplaying is supposed to start.” Cheryl waved her character sheet back and forth. “I specifically requested choking and there has been _zero choking so far_.”

“My turn. So… can I stand up yet or what?” Krieger asked. “Or am I still winded from when Archer’s character punched me in the dick the last round?”

“After he did the same thing to me,” Ray chimed in.

“You guys,” Archer giggled, pouring himself another scotch. “I told you before we started, my guy’s name is Richard Puncher. Get it? _Richard Puncher?_ ”

“Yes, Archer, we all get it.” Lana sighed. She reached for the last bottle of vodka and filled her glass with its remnants. “Cyril, could you please get us another bottle? Mallory’s got to have one in her office somewhere.”

“Alright, I’ll be right back, and Krieger you need to roll a fortitude check to see if you’ve recovered.” Cyril pushed his chair out and headed off in search of more liquor.

Once he reached Mallory’s office he rubbed his chin and gazed around. “Now if I were a bottle of alcohol, where would I be…” Pausing for a second, he just went straight for her desk and opened the top drawer, revealing several various bottles of vodka. “Huh, well that was a gimme…”

He reached in and fumbled around for one at random, not really knowing which would be best, and finally pulled one out. Except he hadn’t actually had a bottle of vodka in his hand, it was a lever of some sort.

“Huh, I wonder -” Cyril started before he heard everyone else shouting in the other room, then heard those shouts fading into the distance.

Turning around, he saw the large monitor behind Mallory’s desk come to life, showing a dimly lit area strewn with trash and debris. Dirty water filled the room as well, at what looked to be knee level, and suddenly the screams he’d recently heard receding grew louder through the screen.

The rest of his team exploded into view, falling from a panel high on one wall into the filthy water below one by one. Archer, Lana, Pam, Cheryl, Krieger, and finally Ray piled up in the middle of the small chamber.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!” yelled Lana as she attempted to extract herself from under the rest of her comrades.

“Where the hell are we?” Ray said, sliding off of Krieger and into the knee deep water. “Oh DUKES, what is this slime?!”

“I, uh, I’ve never been here before,” Krieger said, looking back and forth at everyone else.

“Goddammit Pam, could you just -” Archer started, once everyone was off of him except for her. His eyes went wide as he got out from under her and looked around. “Wait. Wait wait wait. I know this room!”

“Are you guys okay?” Cyril asked. He found an intercom located next to the monitor and attempted to communicate with them through it. “Can you hear me? Hello?”

“Cyril what the hell did you do to us?” asked Pam. “Where are we?”

“STAR WARS, YOU GUYS!” shouted Archer.

“I think he’s having a stroke.” Cheryl said, brushing some sludge off of her shoulder. “Or maybe it’s Tourette’s? I don’t know how that works to be honest.”

“No, you guys, it’s the trash compactor from the Death Star!” he continued. When no one replied, he waved his arms for emphasis. “From Episode IV? A New Hope?” Archer sighed and shook his head. “Jesus Christ, you guys, why do I even work with you?”

“Okay, well, that’s nice and all, but get us the hell out of here now, Cyril.” Lana walked over to the only apparent exit, which was sealed shut. “This door doesn’t have a handle or any way to open it on this end, not that I can see anyway.”

“That’s because we’re inside a trash compactor, Lana, duh.” Archer snapped his fingers and reached inside his suit, pulling out a gun. “I’ve got to try this, hold on a sec.”

“ARCHER, NO, DON’T!” Ray shouted, holding up his hands to no avail.

The gunshots went off in quick succession, the sound deafening in the enclosed space, and the bullets ricocheted off the metal walls several times before burying themselves into the random pieces of junk scattered about.

“DAMMIT, ARCHER.” Lana said, or at least that’s what Archer assumed she was saying.

“Muh.” He rubbed his ears and blinked. “MUH.” Shaking his head, the buzzing and ringing started to fade, though he continued to hit his ears with his hands. “Haha, classic Star Wars. Of course that’d happen.”

“Mmmmph!” came a cry from one of the corners. Cheryl was being held up mid-air, a thick tentacle wrapped around her throat. Her feet kicked back and forth and she had a large grin on her face, which was a deep, bright red.

“I’ll save you!” Pam threw herself at the base of the tentacle, diving into the water and going underneath. A few seconds later the tentacle dropped Cheryl and quickly whipped back into the depths, followed by a distant, deep rumbling roar and Pam re-emerging from the water. She spit out a chunk of something into the water and put her hands on her hips. “Pam saves the day!”

“Why did you do that for?!” Cheryl asked, still trying to catch her breath. “That was so. Fucking. Awesome!” She sighed and ran a hand across her throat, which was deeply bruised and had several suction cup marks around it.

A digital projection of an anime character dressed in all pink appeared beside Krieger, cupping her hand over his ear as she whispered to him and then giggled, both hands moving over her mouth.

“No, that’s not what that’s for at all, and I’ve never ever used this room for that purpose. Shoo!” Krieger waved his hand at the projection, which frowned at him, said something angrily in a foreign language, then blinked out of existence.

“Guess what happens next!” Archer said, clapping his hands together.

Lana, still struggling with the door, just shook her head. “Nnnnnnnnnope. Cyril, can’t you hit a button or something to open this door?”

“Um, there’s some buttons but they’re not labeled. Maybe… maybe if I try this one?” He reached out and pushed a big red button.

The walls of the room creaked and groaned, then slowly started to move together.

“HAHA I KNEW IT, YES!” screamed Archer while the rest of them tried to find objects to brace between the walls and prevent them from getting crushed. “You guys, it’s going to be okay, C3P - I mean, Cyril will stop it just in the nick of time.”

“I can’t stop it!” Cyril yelled, running one hand through his hair while frantically pushing buttons at random. “Nothing is working!”

“Archer, don’t just stand there, help us!” Ray shouted, holding one end of a large, metal pole up to one side while Lana placed the other end against the opposite wall.

“You guys where did that thing go?” Cheryl asked, bending down and flicking her hand through the water as she peered downward. “Hello, Mr. Tentacle thing, I’m still here!”

Pam pounded both fists on the door, then started kicking it. “LET US OUT! I’M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!”

“How old _are_ you anyway?” Archer asked, arms folded as he leaned against one of the walls.

“You don’t ask a lady that kind of question!” she retorted, still slamming her hands on the door.

“Okay, I can’t ask ladies, but how old are _you_ , is what I’m asking, heh,” he said with a smirk.

Krieger walked up to Archer and gestured to the room. “So how do you like this place anyway? Is it authentic enough? I mean, not that I made this for my own salacious purposes or anything, of course.”

"Why would you even have a place like this?" Archer asked before raising his hand. "Wait, you know what? I don't want to know."

“It’s getting pretty close! Hurry the hell up, Cyril!” Ray shouted. The pole he and Lana were using crumpled and buckled into a useless clump of metal.

“I don’t know what to do! I’m sorry!” Cyril pushed even more buttons, mashing the big red one that had started the walls moving, all to no avail. Having exhausted all of those options, he went back to the drawer and pulled on the lever he’d first pulled and tried pulling it again.

Down in the trash compactor, the walls stopped moving, grinding to a halt with a loud screech of metal on metal. Pam yelled out loud in celebration.

“Curses, I was too slow! They’re dying down there!’ Cyril sobbed, putting his head in his hands, unable to look at the screen.

“We’re alright, Cyril! We’re alright!” Lana called back. “We still need to get this damned door open, but we’re alive.”

“The door? Oh, the safe word is ‘pineapple.’” said Krieger. The door whooshed open immediately after that, revealing a well-lit hallway that lead to his laboratory. “Hey, look at that, how did, uh, how did that get there?”

Crunching the remainder of the metal pole in her hands, Lana yelled out and swung at Krieger, who barely ducked in time and yelped as he ran out the door.

“You know, I think I’ve changed my mind, this birthday party isn’t actually that bad.” Archer said with a chuckle.


End file.
